


Valiant Effort

by BekahRose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Double Penetration, Light Bondage, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1474705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/pseuds/BekahRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He feels connected to Merlin and Arthur in a way he has never felt before with anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valiant Effort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sksdwrld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/gifts), [agirlnamedtruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/gifts).



> Written for Challenge #5 'The Big One' at [Camelot Land](http://camelot-land.livejournal.com) on LiveJournal. The prompts were **Valiant** and **Excalibur**.
> 
> This has now been Remixed by the always beautiful sksdwrld. The best kind of angsty smut ever! [A Trivial Pursuit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8641927). Go. Read. Shower her with all the love!

He feels connected to Merlin and Arthur in a way he has never felt before with anyone... Druids, Knights, Freemen... He feels safe in the cocoon of their arms, drifting in and out of sleep as they whisper over and above him, discussing plans for the visiting delegation from Mercia. The sheets of the royal bed are twisted around his legs, tying him in place.

"Merlin, let the man sleep." Arthur's voice washes over him moments before he feels a tongue begin to dance along the flesh of his left shoulder blade.

Warm, sucking kisses trace along the dark ink that stains his skin followed by the tingle of power that has nothing to do with the magic that thrums beneath his - or Merlin's - skin and everything to do with the trust displayed by the two men that covet him.

A rumbling moan works its way out of Mordred's chest and he smiles into the pillows when he feels thick fingers wind their way into his dark curls.

"Asleep my arse," Merlin mumbles in response, his breath huffing across Mordred's shoulder. "The lazy little brat has been sitting here waiting for us to do all the work."

"Have not," Mordred says, turning his head and relishing the pull on his hair as Arthur's grip tightens. "Been waiting for you two to finish talking matters of court and council."

"A likely tale," Arthur murmurs before pulling Mordred's head back and moving in to kiss his neck.

Merlin's laugh echoes around the chamber and all Mordred can do is twist his body again, trying to meet both sets of hands and lips that are mapping his skin. He whimpered at the feel of blunt teeth nipping at sensitive flesh, can feel tiny sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine to coalesce in his balls.

"No," he whines as Merlin pulled away.

"Well," Merlin says breathlessly as he reaches over and nudges Arthur away from sucking up a darkening bruise on Mordred's neck. "Would you look at that?" He motions to Mordred's lower body.

Arthur follows Merlin's gaze down to Mordred's legs before he throws his head back and laughs.

"You've tied yourself in knots, Sir Mordred," Arthur says once he's stopped laughing. "Are you that eager?"

Mordred twists and untwists his body in an attempt to untangle himself from the sheets. When he is finally, breathlessly on his back, his legs are spread but no less tied. "Damn," he mutters, lifting his head to watch as Merlin traces the winding edge of the sheet up the inside of his thigh.

"Eager as always, my Lord." Merlin tilts his head, meeting Arthur's grin with one of his own before his fingers began a lazy dance around the crown of Mordred's cock.

Mordred watches as Arthur nods once before turning away to reach for something just out of Mordred's line of sight. When Arthur turns back, it is with a square of familiar red material clutched tightly in his hands.

"Simply say the words, and we'll cease right now." Arthur says softly as he lowers his head to press his lips to Mordred's cheeks, nose and eyelids.

"You  _do_ remember the words, don't you, Mordred?" Merlin's voice is soft and gentle and he moves away from Mordred's prick, his fingers stroking through the sparse smattering of curls on Mordred's chest.

"I remember." Mordred replies, tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "I trust you... both of you." He met Arthur's gaze and then Merlin's; letting his mind brush against Merlin's so he knows the truth of his words.

After a moment, Merlin nods, a slow smile spreading across his face and he tightens his grip on Mordred's chest hair and gives two quick, sharp pulls. The pain sends tiny little bolts of pleasure dancing up and down Mordred's spine, making him bite his lip to keep from whimpering.  Arthur's smile is the last thing he sees before the King of Camelot is leaning over and tying Merlin's neckerchief around his eyes as a blindfold.

The darkness, tinted red as late afternoon sunlight filters in through the high windows, heightens Mordred's arousal. He feels every callous and scar on the hands that trail over his body. It makes him focus on the way Merlin's fingers, long and deft, trace words of power up his inner thighs; makes him focus on the way Arthur's hands, large, rough and strong, massage his hips before the tip of his cock is engulfed in wet heat. Mordred's fingers untangle from the bedclothes and he reaches out to meet firm skin and silky hair. Duelling tongues dance along his shaft, stopping every so often to meet above him from the sounds of it.

"Please," he whimpers when twin mouths descend on him once more. The only response he receives are matching breathless chuckles and a mix of fingers teasing down between his legs towards his clenching hole.

" _Patience, Druid_ ." Merlin's voice, full of laughter, brushes against his mind as a pair of digits press against his pucker, lips and tongues still laving attention to his cock.

There is fumbling at his side and Mordred can feel a hand brush against his ribs, strong and warm before there is the brief press of moulded clay against his skin. Blinded as he is, Mordred can hear the cork stopper being worked from the mouth of the phial before the gentle sloshing of liquid reaches his ears. He grins and arches his back as warm, slick hands wrap around his cock to send pulses of desire up and down his spine.

"Mordred?" Arthur's voice is husky with desire, making Mordred tilt his head in the King's direction.

"Yes?" He wets his lips before they are claimed in a slow, deep kiss that leaves him moaning at the promise it contains.

"I want you to listen to me carefully," Arthur says softly, his warm breath caressing the shell of Mordred's ear. "Can you do that, Mordred?"

Mordred whimpers as a pair of fingers tease at his nipples, his breath speeding up.

"Mordred, I need you to focus on my voice." Arthur's tongue curls around Mordred's earlobe, making the young knight keen and reach for him. "Are you listening Mordred?"

Mordred can hear the smile in Arthur's voice and he groans his answer the moment he felt blunt teeth nip at soft skin.

"Good," Arthur murmurs and Mordred can feel the bed shift and change as someone - Merlin - moves away. Arthur's warm still brushes across his neck in gentle puffs as the sound of bare feet slap against the floor of the chamber.

"Arthur?" Mordred tilts his head, chewing his bottom lip. The anticipation is twisting him up inside and he  _wants_ . He reaches his hands out, only to have Arthur's hands wrap around his wrists and hold them.

"Patience, Knight." Arthur's voice is soft and it is not long before Mordred feels the King's lips brush the shell of his ear. "When Merlin returns, I want you to raise your arms above your head, palms up." As he speaks, he trails his fingers across Mordred's palms, the gentle touch belying the strength of the young knight's King.

Mordred nods his head carefully, already stretching his arms up and over his head. "Sire, please?" he begs, tilting his head until he meets Arthur's lips in a slow, sensuous kiss.

"I turn my back for a moment," Merlin's tone is mocking and Mordred breaks the kiss from Arthur to aim his face in the direction of Merlin's voice.

"We grow impatient," Mordred says with a tiny smirk pulling at his lips.

Merlin's laughter fills the chamber and Mordred's insides twist and shift with what he likes to think is happiness. He feels safe in this room, with these two men at his side, that it's so hard to believe he would bring it all to an end. The very thought of the prophecy he grew up listening to is enough to turn his insides cold with fear at the thought of losing either of the men that he can feel crowding him on the bed.

"All good things," Merlin's breath washes over Mordred's cock before he feels gentle kisses against his stomach.

"I'm done waiting." Mordred whines as he bucks his hips, his cock brushing against Merlin's, the friction making him groan.

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur's tone is warning and the familiar inflection he places on Merlin's name makes Mordred's heart twist with wanting.

"Fine," Merlin grumbles and Mordred doesn't have to see to know that he is currently rolling his eyes at being rushed.

There is movement on the bed. The mattress shifts around and beneath Mordred as low, familiar voices conspire above him. He should feel vulnerable, tied, blindfolded and at the mercies of the two most powerful men he’s ever known, but he doesn’t. He feels strong, like he can move mountains, like he can be proud. And not just because he’s a Knight of Camelot. Merlin’s presence fills Camelot until Mordred knows that the great Emrys is the guiding light by which everyone grows and the Kingdom prospers, whether they know it or not. He is proud of his magic and the wisdom it brings him.

“Mordred,” Arthur’s voice is back in his ear; warm puffs of air brush against his flesh and ignite tiny sparks along every nerve. “No matter what happens now, your palms must remain flat and you must remain as still as possible, do you understand me?”

Mordred nods.

“And there is to be no  _cheating_ ,” Merlin’s voice is at his other ear and Mordred twists his head to capture Merlin’s lips, whining as he brushes the other man’s jaw instead. “I’ll know if you cheat.”

“And there is always a punishment for those caught cheating,” Arthur says, voice light with laughter. “Are you ready now, Mordred?”

Mordred’s ‘Yes’ is barely a breath across his lips before strong fingers are stroking down his arms, tracing the dark blue veins under the pale skin of his wrists. He flexes his fingers… once…. twice… and then rests his hands against the mattress, palms facing up. His breath catches in his throat when he feels the weight of a sword lain across his palm.

His whole body becomes taut. The steel is almost warm and he knows without a shadow of doubt that the sword across his palms is Excalibur.

“Good,” Arthur says, his hand brushes Mordred’s hair back from his forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“Whatever happens next,” Merlin says, pressing his lips to Mordred’s temple. “Remain still.”

“Excalibur,” Mordred breathes, his fingers twitch.

“Is sharp, and will invariably slice through your fingers, should you close your hands around the blade.” Arthur says as he grips Mordred’s hair and tugs slightly.

“And it would be a shame to lose such lovely, talented fingers.” Merlin whispers into Mordred’s skin as he kisses his way down the young knight’s chest.

Mordred feels Arthur’s lips brush against his forehead before he too, moves away and down towards the bottom of the bed. Tied to the bed, unable to see and keeping every muscle in his arms and hands from dropping or gripping onto Excalibur, Mordred can hear  _everything_ . The way his breath sounds shallow and ragged in the cavernous room, the soft hums Merlin is making as Arthur pulls him into a kiss. He can hear the sound of skin brushing against skin, and liquid - the oil they use - spilling into an open palm.

From where Mordred lies, Merlin’s breathy moans feel like they surround him. Arthur’s grunts and groans mingle with the noises Merlin makes and Mordred has never been more turned on in his entire life than he is in this moment.

He groans when he feels a strong hand wrap around his cock, knows that it is Arthur’s from the feel of the calluses on the inside of his thumb where he grips his sword. It’s not long, a few, quick strokes and Mordred cries out as the hand is removed and another takes its place. The mattress shifts again, and Mordred feels the brush of lightly furred thighs against his hips and he can’t help it, he thrusts.

“Uh, uh.” Arthur places a hand on Mordred’s lower belly and pushes down, pins him in place. “Do _not_ move.”

Mordred is frozen with fear and longing. He is unsure of what is going to happen, but he trusts his King and his Warlock and makes a valiant effort to keep as still as possible; even as he feels Merlin lower himself onto his cock.

Mordred is biting down on his lower lip to keep from crying out when Merlin finally,  _finally_ bottoms out; the muscles in his thighs and torso burning with the effort it takes to keep as still as possible.

The clutch of Merlin’s body around him drives Mordred to a higher state of awareness. He feels his dick throb in time with his heartbeat, hears the hitch in Merlin’s breath and feels the muscles of Merlin’s arsehole contract around him. He feels Arthur shift; the soft drag of fingers on his belly as Arthur moves away makes him pout.

“Whatever else happens,” Merlin says, and Mordred hears the straining, breathless quality in Merlin’s voice that screams how close the Warlock really is. “Don’t panic and for pity’s sake, do not move your arms.”

Mordred whimpers in the affirmative, only to cry out and squirm when he feels something push against his cock, where it joins with Merlin’s hole. He is gasping in tandem with Merlin when the older man lies back, Mordred feeling pointy shoulder blades press into his upper chest. There is pressure now, against Mordred’s cock and he doesn’t know if he wants it to stop or to keep going.

“M… Merlin?” He asks as he tilts his head as much as he is able to latch onto the nearest patch of skin.

“It’s fine, just remember to stay calm and still.” Merlin hand is sliding from Mordred’s hip and up his side in a gesture meant to soothe, but only sends more shocks of desire pulsing straight to Mordred’s dick.

The pressure is insistent and Mordred can’t hold back anymore as he feels the head of Arthur’s cock squeeze itself in beside his. Merlin, currently writhing on top of him, is making the most obscene sounds, which only serve to push Mordred closer to the edge of oblivion.

There is a soft squelching sound, and he feels Arthur’s fingers pressing more oil between them, feeding into Merlin’s hole before he begins the slow and controlled slide to be bury himself next to Mordred. Once Arthur bottoms out, his balls nestled next to Merlin’s and Mordred’s, he gives a single, solitary twitch of his hips which does the job of pushing Mordred over the edge and into bliss.

\---

When he wakes from his post orgasmic stupor, Mordred’s arms are cradled in the laps of his lovers and they are speaking in hushed voices, leaning across him and sharing kisses. In this moment, where he is being taken care of so lovingly, he feels connected to Merlin and Arthur in a way he has never felt before with anyone. He feels safe in the cocoon of their arms, Excalibur is nowhere to be seen, and he thinks when he came, he let it slip from his hands to the floor beside the bed. It is no matter though, as he tugs Merlin and Arthur to him in turn, kissing them with a reverence he can’t put into words; he made the effort, and that is all that matters.

 


End file.
